The prodigal son arrives home, Broke, guilty, and sheep eyed. His dad looks and sounds serious, Then he blinks, thinks less of the crime.
Remembers watching him grow, Woke, from sleep when he cried. So rather than compound the guilt he’s Taken his side, one more time.
This entry was posted on Friday, October 3rd, 2008 at 11:27 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
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